


The Heart of a Demon

by Crazyrose912



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, No beta we fall like Crowley, Temporary Character Death, this one is a doozy, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyrose912/pseuds/Crazyrose912
Summary: Heaven is not satisfied after the trials, they do some major damage. Crowley is heartbroken and a mess, but he meets someone who eases the pain. Someone who seems too familiar.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 50





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. I wrote this as a vent fic when I was in the low of a depression bout. So now you have to suffer with me. I promise it will have a good ending, but we will suffer first.

Crowley lounged on the sofa in the bookshop. He was mindlessly playing a game on his mobile, while the angel busied himself with reshelving books, and shooing away potential customers. Crowley had never been so happy to just be him. 

Ever since the nonpacolypse, Aziraphale and himself had spent a lot of time together. Crowley would come over and hang out at the bookshop, maybe help scare away some customers. Aziraphale did not thank him, but he could tell he was grateful.

Aziraphale at some point would come over and tell him he was closed. At which point they would go out and eat at some café or restaurant. Crowley didn’t keep tabs on where they ate, so long as they were together, and he could enjoy watching his angel eat.

They would then come home with dessert to compliment the wine they had stashed away in the back. Crowley would go on and on about some topic he heard, and Aziraphale would offer his opinion. Then he would change the subject to some long-forgotten person that they had known. Crowley didn’t care what they talked about all that much. He just loved talking with Aziraphale. 

Crowley’s favorite part of the evening was after they had finished a couple of bottles and were most decidedly drunk. Aziraphale would grab his hand and pull him towards the bedroom hidden in the back. There they would fall upon the cushy mattress covered with way too many tartan blankets and wrap themselves in each other's arms and hold on tight until they fell fast asleep.

Crowley loved the feeling of being in his angels arms. He most decidedly could have stayed there for all eternity and only complained a little. He knew he and his angel were safe when they were together. He would go to the ends of the earth to protect his angel. He had stopped Armageddon from happening for his angel, well Adam had helped.

Crowley didn’t keep track of days. He doesn’t know if they spent years in that routine or just a month. He cherished all the time he had with his angel, but they had eternity to love each other. Right?

He thought they had all the time in the world, but he thought wrong. Everything came crashing around him in one short day. They heard the bell of the door tinkle it’s happy tune early in the morning. Its jolly little tune announced that they had most unwanted and unwelcome guests.

Crowley didn’t have time to think as the Archangels waltzed into their home - their sanctuary - and bound and carried them off. Crowley struggled with his assailants until they knocked him out cold.  _ Don’t hurt Aziraphale! _ Was all he could think as the world went dark around him.

***

Crowley stood there and all he could do was watch. His corporation would not move. He wanted to run. To get away. His stomach felt like a lead balloon that weighed him down. His heart was being torn from his chest. His feet were being burned beneath him. And his eyes stung with tears.

_ No. _ This wasn’t happening to him. He wasn’t here in this place. This awful place. This place was supposed to be holy, but he felt anything but safe. He was on edge. His nerves stood on end; he couldn’t be relaxed.

What hurt him most was the view in front of him. Aziraphale was sitting tied to a chair. His mouth was duct taped shut. His face was bruised and the light behind the once bright blue eyes was gone. They were dull and held no life behind them. It crushed Crowley to look at him. Even from a distance Crowley could see how much pain the angel was in. His usually perfect suit was ripped and stained with blood. No doubt the angel's blood. 

Michael approached Crowley. Crowley’s own hands were tied and secured above him. His legs were tied together. His feet were barely touching the ground, but it was enough to cause him pain. His own clothes were also in ruins. Bloodstained and ripped. There was a dull ache everywhere in his body.

“Are you going to tell us what we want to know?” Michael said to him.

Crowley gritted his teeth. “Never.” He couldn’t even remember the question at this point. All he knew was he needed to get out of here.

Gabriel walked up to Aziraphale. Crowley struggled against his binds, even though he knew it was futile. Crowley growled and tried to snarl.

Gabriel swung his arm and hit Aziraphale across the face. When Aziraphale looked up there was blood coming from a cut on his face. Gabriel ripped off the tape. Crowley could see his lips were bleeding and the white mark where the tape had ripped the skin. Aziraphale’s mouth just hung agape, like he didn’t have enough energy to close it. Blood dribbled down his beautiful face.

“Stop hurting him!” Crowley cried out. He could handle the beatings to himself but watching them torture Aziraphale was 100 times worse. He felt every blow deep in his core. 

Michael grabbed his face. “Then tell us how you did it. How did you not die?”

“Don’t tell them.” Aziraphale mumbled, but blood started to drool from his mouth.

Crowley couldn’t bear the sight of him anymore. It was too painful. He needed to get Aziraphale out of this place. They had always abused him, but this was too far. “We switched.” He mumbled out. He was broken and they were winning. His fight was fleeting him.

“What was that?” Gabriel grinned and walked closer. “Say it louder.”

“We switched corporations.” Crowley snarled at him. Though the bite was lessened by the desperation in his voice.

“Ahahaha!!!” Gabriel let out a horrible laugh. “I knew you weren’t resistant to hellfire.” He said almost to himself as he walked back to where Aziraphale was sitting. “You won’t win a second time.” Gabriel put his foot on Aziraphale’s chair and leaned him back. It looked like Aziraphale would tip backwards. Crowley blinked and suddenly there was a whirlwind of hellfire behind Aziraphale.

Crowley’s mouth fell open.  _ no. No. NO! NOOOO!!!  _ Crowley wanted to cry out. Wanted to do anything. He tried to struggle against his bonds. His strength was gone. He couldn’t even use a miracle. All he could do was watch. He just stood, or rather hung, there and watched.

Gabriel gave one more wicked smile. “Goodbye, Aziraphale.” The way he said Aziraphale’s name, it leaked the worst of oils and would have spoiled anyone's day. Gabriel pushed his leg out straight and sent Aziraphale flying backwards into the hellfire.

Aziraphale screamed. Crowley cried. His best friend was gone. He closed his eyes tight against the pain that overwhelmed him. His sobs wracked his broken and bruised body. The pain inside hurt more than all the physical pain.

Michael looked at him sympathetically. They walked over to Gabriel and whispered into his ear. Gabriel rolled his eyes but walked over to Crowley.

“We’ll let you go. But if you try anything. You will meet a similar end.” His voice was low and threatening. Then he snapped his fingers.


	2. Crowley in Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is left without his angel. He is in the depths of his misery. Will he ever not be sad? Perhaps a stranger might help him out.

Crowley sat up in his bed. His body ached everywhere, but it was mostly a dull ache. His soul ached more. There was a void in his chest that couldn’t be filled by anything. It had been months since Aziraphale had left a void in his heart, but he still couldn’t seem to find anything that would ease the pain.

He hadn’t left his bed since he had been miracled back. The first few days he cried straight for hours. He only stopped when his body let him fall asleep. But even sleep was painful. Every time he closed his eyes all he saw was Aziraphale’s face as he was engulfed by the fire. How he looked right into Crowley’s soul. His face contorted in pain.

Crowley felt another sob wrack his broken body. He was healing physically, but it was a slower process than normal. He didn’t have the strength to miracle himself better, and he welcomed the physical pain. It reminded him he was alive and brought him out of his miserable thoughts.

Crowley dragged his feet to the edge of the bed. He needed to get something to eat. He had barely moved, let alone gotten out of his bed, in what felt like a month. His corporation needed substance.

He stumbled over to his fridge. He reached in and grabbed something. He stuffed it into his mouth. He stuffed his mouth until his stomach felt closer to full than it had. Then he stumbled back to his bed, where he curled himself into a ball. He wanted the black dreamless sleep, but he was plagued with dreams that made his sleep restless and more tiring.

***

It took almost a year before Crowley could bring himself to leave his flat. He walked aimlessly around London. He didn’t mean to walk to St. James’ Park, but he ended up there. He sat at the bench where he and Aziraphale had once sat and argued about the arrangement. He missed the way Aziraphale had always been reluctant to agree to his plans, but always came around in the end.

Crowley felt tears prick his eyes. He was grateful his sunglasses hid the oncoming tears from passersby. He didn’t want other people’s sympathy and most definitely did not want people’s pity. He could take care of himself.

It was another month before he hopped into his Bentley. He loved his Bentley, but it felt empty without Aziraphale’s warmth sitting next to him. And the radio was silent, knowing anything it played would only bring pain.

He hadn’t meant to, but he found himself parked in front of the bookshop. Aziraphale’s bookshop. It stood there, like it always had, but now it was devoid of life. There was no angel inside, reorganizing or reading the books. Crowley couldn’t bring himself to go inside.

He drove past it at least a dozen more times before he finally got out of the Bentley. He reached the doors before he felt the familiar wetness on his face. He gently touched the metal plates. He never really bothered with them before, but now he couldn’t find the strength to push them. He was going to turn back, go back to his Bentley, when he heard someone clear their throat. He turned and looked at the stranger. 

“Shop’s closed, ya know.” They said, awkwardly. “Been closed for a while now.”

Crowley felt the sting in his chest. “I know that.” He looked at the closed sign that would never be turned over. He knew painfully well how closed the shop was.

“Then what are you doing?”

“I knew the owner. He was my friend.”  _ Friend. _ He was more than that. He was Crowley’s will to live. The reason he breathed and got up every day. He was Crowley’s sun and moon. And he was gone, and Crowley was left in the dark. All the colors had been drained, and everything was a dull grey. He couldn’t see the roses or smell the fragrances in the air. There was no life left without Aziraphale. “I guess I just wanted to see this place one more time. Remember all the good times we had.” Crowley told the truth.

The stranger patted his shoulder. “I feel that, lost my friend a while back too. You can’t really fill the void they leave behind.”

Crowley wasn’t used to the contact. No one had touched him since  _ that day _ . He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “Yeah, something like that.” He mumbled. He hoped the stranger would take the hint and leave him alone with his memories.

They gave him a sympathetic smile and walked away. Leaving him standing there at the doors to the bookshop. Crowley reached out a hand and pushed on the door. They gave easily and groaned as they swung open. Crowley stepped into the bookshop.

There was more dust then he remembered, but everything looked just about the same. Books everywhere, overflowing from the shelves and crammed into every nook and cranny. Tables covered with books, and other antiques Aziraphale had collected over the centuries.

Crowley walked slowly through the maze of shelves, towards the backroom. He took his time and studied all the books that were Aziraphale’s pride and joy. He let his senses get overwhelmed by just being in the bookshop.

It was painful, but it was also soothing to stand there, and breathe in the angel’s home. The angel’s presence was everywhere, and Crowley wanted to drink it all in. He wanted to remember everything about his angel. He didn’t want to forget anything about Aziraphale.

His feet stopped when he reached the backroom. They had spent countless hours drinking and talking there. Crowley was certain he had fallen asleep on the sofa at least once or twice. It looked the same as the last time he had been there. Not an inch of it was different. It felt as if Aziraphale would walk out with two glasses and a bottle of something nice.

Crowley fell to his knees and sobbed. Never before had he wanted so badly for the angel to walk out and ask him what the matter was. He wanted to feel Aziraphale in his arms, knowing that he was okay. That this was just a bad dream. But he didn’t walk out. And Crowley just sat on the floor, letting his grief overwhelm him.

He didn’t know how long it took before he pulled himself together and stood up. He dragged himself to his Bentley and somehow got back to his bed. He spent another month under his covers.

Hell hadn’t bothered him since his trial. Why hadn’t heaven just let them be? Why couldn’t Gabriel just let them be? They had been so happy together. Everything was going so well. Until Gabriel and the archangels had shown up unexpectedly at the bookshop. Gabriel had been surprised to see him with Aziraphale, but they tied them both up and took them back to Heaven and proceeded to torture them. He took turns who he interrogated and who he beat up. Crowley was usually strong during beatings, but he wasn’t so strong when Aziraphale had looked so pale and broken.

He couldn’t help but blame himself for what happened. What would have happened if he had held his tongue and just let them continue to beat the life out of Aziraphale. Would they have ever stopped? Maybe they would have taken Holy Water to him.

He was certain that had Michael not intervened, he would have been toast as well. He probably should thank Michael for saving his life, but he wished they had killed him. It was better than this constant hole in his heart.

He couldn’t live without Aziraphale. Aziraphale had been his life. The reason he could endure the horribleness of the world. He would have lost his faith in humanity a long time ago if it weren’t for Aziraphale. He probably would have discorporated several bodies by drinking them to death to deal with the bloodshed he had seen.

Crowley was tempted to do that now, but He didn’t know if Hell, or anyone would issue him a new body. So, he kept his drinking habits within reason. Just enough to dull the pain, but not too much. Never enough to quench his ache.

***

Crowley didn’t think he would ever feel happiness again. He went through motions, but his heart was never in anything he did. He tempted some people for fun, but it wasn’t the same. He most definitely did not feel like smiling again.

Then one day he walked by a library. He doesn’t know what compelled him to walk into it, but he heard a chime ring out as he stepped over the threshold. He looked around at the shelves. They seemed familiar to him, in the way they seemed to hold more books than they probably should have. The filing system didn’t make sense, and the books were placed at all different angles. He even recognized some of the titles on the shelves.

That really should have tipped him off, but he brushed it off. He should have known better than to walk into it. He should have seen the signs. He would later kick himself for how ignorant he was being.

“How can I help you?” A voice called out. Crowley looked up. The voice was familiar, but he was not expecting to see the bright blue eyes that met his gaze. He nearly crumpled to the floor. Somehow his legs did not give way beneath him. 

In front of him stood a man with white blond curls, dressed in a tan suit. He had a bowtie that looked eerily similar to the tartan pattern that Crowley had memorized. But what held his gaze was the bright life-filled blue jewel eyes. They were the same eyes that he had seen in Eden. The ones he had memorized throughout the centuries as he kept running into them. The ones he had stared at for countless hours and memorized the patterns within them. He knew those eyes.

Crowley wanted to say something, anything, but his throat was clogging up. He felt the tears prick at his eyes. He didn’t want to cry here. He wanted to run to the man standing there in front of him, but something held him back. He had watched Aziraphale die. This couldn’t be Aziraphale. It couldn’t be.  _ Could it? _

“Are you here to buy a book?” Not Aziraphale said. Wrinkling his brow, as he studied Crowley. “Do you need me to call someone for you?”

“Aziraphale.” He breathed out.

Not Aziraphale gave him a puzzled look. “What?”

Crowley looked into the blue eyes. The life behind them was not ethereal. It was not Aziraphale standing there. But Crowley couldn’t convince his heart it wasn’t him. His heart was hanging on to hope that this was Aziraphale in front of him.

“Aziraphale?” He searched for any sign of recognition in the jewel blue. He was met with only confusion. They clouded and turned a shade darker to a deep-sea blue.

Crowley couldn’t bear standing there anymore. He turned and fled. He doesn’t know how, but he made it to his flat before he lost it. But as soon as he was safe behind his door he sobbed. He missed his angel so much. He cried himself to sleep that night and had fitful dreams plagued with long ago times.


	3. The Librarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets to know this new librarian who reminds him of someone close to him. But is that a good idea?

It was a week before Crowley let himself walk into the library again. This time he walked cautiously. He scanned the shelves. It seemed like some books had left since he had been there. His Aziraphale would have never parted with one of his books. Crowley thought he had steeled his nerves, but his breath still caught in his throat when he locked eyes with a blue gaze.

The blue eyes studied him carefully. The brow above them was creased with concern. Crowley knew he must have left a weird first impression. He had to make amends.

“Um. I’m sorry about the last time I was in here.” He said softly, looking down at his snake boots. “You look a lot like my friend, who I haven’t seen in a while. I was just caught … off guard.” He said truthfully. Peaking carefully at the man’s face, he saw understanding dawn.

“It’s okay. Mistaken identities are a common thing. I know sometimes my friend gets mistaken for some other person all the time.” Not Aziraphale smiled, and Crowley’s knees turned to jelly. He knew that smile, the way the edge of his eyes crinkled in just the way that showed how genuine it was. “My name is Avery. Avery Fell. Can I help you find any book?”

Crowley did not read books. Usually. But he figured he had already made a jumble of the situation, so he threw out a genre. “I was hoping to get a spy book.”

There was that smile again. His angel’s smile. “I have a whole section for you.” He led him to a section on the far side of the room. “You can browse through any of these. But this one is one of my favorites.” He handed Crowley a black book with what looked like blood streaked on the cover.

Crowley turned it over in his hands. “Looks interesting.”

A chuckle from Avery’s surprised Crowley. “It is. It's very suspenseful and has a protagonist that reminds me a bit of you.”

Crowley felt his lips twitch up. He hadn’t smiled in what felt like years. He wasn’t quite smiling, but it was as close to a smile as he could get. “Reminds you of me? How so?” He offered a challenge. 

Avery tapped his lips, as if deep in thought. “They wear sunglasses all the time. They are mysterious. And they drive a vintage car.”

Crowley snorted. “That doesn’t make them anything like me.” 

Avery laughed. It was music to Crowley’s ears. It made his heart feel lighter than it had in what seemed like forever. “Well. Of what I have seen of you, you seem similar. I would have to get to know you better, to know for sure.”

Crowley didn’t smile, but he just kind of nodded. He turned and walked back to the front door. When a voice stopped him. 

“Are you going to check it out? Or are you going to steal it?” Avery called back at him. 

“Maybe I am trying to steal it.” Crowley shot back a jest.

“If you do. I might have to pounce on you and call the cops.” Avery shot back. “And then you won’t be able to come back.”

Crowley sheepishly walked back to the front desk. “I am kind of new to this whole thing.”

Avery smiled politely at him. “I can tell, but that’s okay.” He slid some paperwork across the counter. “Fill this out, and then you can have a card and check out some books.”

Crowley looked at the paper. He grabbed a pen and filled it out, putting down mostly lies. Without really thinking too much about it, he jotted down the only day he remembered as his birthday. He hoped Avery wouldn’t look too closely at it.

He slid the paper back to Avery, who in turn slid him a little card. Avery kindly showed him how to check out the book, and then Crowley left the library clutching his borrowed book and his new library card.

He walked to St. James Park and sat and read the book. He had never really enjoyed reading books, he always left that to the angel, but as he sat immersed in the story, he felt a twinge of regret. He had never felt like this. The words on the pages seemed to help him forget about his troubles, and he became attached to the main character. And Avery was right, he did have a lot in common with him.

Crowley couldn’t help but think what it might have been like if he had tried reading when he still had the angel. What would Aziraphale's reaction have been? Would Aziraphale have encouraged him to read more or berate him for touching his precious cargo? Crowley shook his head. He couldn’t get caught up in the past. He couldn’t go back. He could only look forward. And he was curious about this Avery Fell.

Crowley walked back into the shop later that week. He had barely refrained from coming back the next day and had only stopped himself by rereading the book a couple of times. The story was still invigorating after every read.

Avery smiled when he saw him. “Back so soon, are we?” It was a playful jab. “Did you enjoy the book?”

“It was alright. For a book. Not as suspenseful as a movie.” Crowley tried to show off his normally cool demeanor. “What other strange books might you have hidden in here?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but he was so out of practice he probably sounded desperate.

Avery didn’t seem to notice and led him to a different section of the library. “Here we have some mystery books. They seem like something you might like.” He pulled one out. “I think you’ll get a kick out of this one, but you can browse if you’d like.”

Crowley really should have taken the book and left, but he decided he wanted to browse. If only to see what other books were hidden in the library. Crowley let his eyes scan the covers of books. He pulled one out and glanced at the cover before sliding it back. He was making good progress down the shelf when Avery stopped him.

“You can’t judge a book by its cover.” He almost seemed upset.

“You can’t?” Crowley was taken aback. He liked to judge stuff by its cover, it usually told him everything he needed to know.

“Nope. You have to read the synopsis and learn about what is on the inside of something before you make any conclusions.” Avery held up a boring looking book. “Take this book for example, just by looking at it, it looks boring, but inside is one of the most fascinating stories ever. You would never know that thought if you didn’t open it up and give it a chance.”

Crowley scrunched up his face. “That’s not always true. Sometimes you can read people just by looking at them.”

“Might be true about people, but not about books. Books are not people.” Avery gave him an inquisitive look. “You can read people by looking at them? Are you psychic or something?”

Crowley shook his head. “It's not that easy to describe. People give you clues when you watch them. Their mannerisms and such.” Crowley was fumbling over his words. He had been around people so long that he could tell what people were like just by looking at them and feeling the energy they put off. Only Aziraphale had been able to understand that. They often watched as they sat, observing the world and passersby as they discussed important assignments.

Crowley didn’t mean to, but the hurt crossed his face. He couldn’t help but be reminded that this person in front of him was not Aziraphale. Aziraphale was gone. No matter how much Crowley wished for him to come back, he was gone forever.

Avery averted his eyes. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to ask. If you need anything else, let me know.” He scurried away.

Crowley wanted to reach out and tell him it wasn’t his fault that he reminded him so much of his angel. Crowley wanted to grab Avery and tell him everything, to see if there was any possibility, he was his angel. But he didn’t. He kept his feet where they were and did not run after Avery. Crowley knew the answer. It would only hurt his heart more. He grabbed the book Avery had suggested, checked it out and headed on his way.

Crowley tried to stay away. He tried everything in his power, short of tying himself down, to keep himself from walking into the library. But here he was. He told himself to just return the book and leave. He knew if he stayed around Avery it would only remind him of his loss, but Avery also soothed the pain that had settled in his chest. Crowley couldn’t talk himself out of just looking into those blue eyes. They were his favorite eyes in the whole universe.

“Hello, Anthony.” Avery called out cheerfully. Crowley winced; he wasn’t used to being called by the name he had given himself. Crowley also did not want to be called Crowley by Avery. If he heard his name on those lips, he’s not sure he could restrain himself from the flood of grief that would flow through him. So, he was okay to be called Anthony.

Crowley held up the book. “Just brought this back.” He shuffled his feet. 

Avery put down the books he was reshelving. “Oh. Okay. Did you not like it?”

Crowley shrugged. “It wasn’t bad. It was interesting.”

Avery’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Did you want to check anything out while you were here?” He could see the question below

“Ngk.” Crowley gave a noncommittal noise. He had told himself in the car ride over here, he did not need another book. 

Avery’s eyes lit up. “Just one second.” He rushed off and returned with a book in his hand. He put it into Crowley’s hands. “Here. Read this one. I think you will like it.”

Crowley looked at the book in his hands. He wanted to say no. To hand it back to Avery, but the look in Avery’s blue eyes stopped him. He resigned himself and left with the book in tow.

Crowley tried several more times to return the book he was borrowing and not get another book, but every time Avery was ready with a new book he should read. It was almost like he knew Crowley’s plan. Avery was really good at picking books that he enjoyed. Crowley was surprised that he enjoyed reading every book he borrowed.

Every time he finished a book, he held it close and sobbed. He wondered if Aziraphale had read it. If Aziraphale would have shared his favorite books with him if he had shown an interest in reading. He tried not to ruin the books with his tears. He made sure the books were in the same condition they were in when he borrowed them. He didn’t know what he would tell Avery if he returned a book back with tear stains, food stains, and the wear and tear that reading a book multiple times would do. He was sure Avery wouldn’t let him back in his library again. Crowley knew how possessive Aziraphale had been, he could imagine Avery felt the same.

“Anthony! I didn’t expect to see you today.” Avery called out to him, as he exited a sitting room, with other people. 

Crowley held the latest book in his hand. “I wanted to know why you thought this was a good book for me. It’s basically a carbon copy of that other one, except it has romance in it.” He handed it back with two fingers. “I do not like mushy stuff.”

Avery only smiled politely. “Duly noted. I’ll keep you out of the romance section then.” Avery walked behind his desk.

Crowley swaggered after him. “What was going on in there?” He gestured his hand in the direction of the room.

“Oh, it was a book club meeting. We meet once a month and discuss a book we read.” Avery smiled, “It simply is a delight, dear boy.”

Crowley nearly choked. It was Deja vu. Aziraphale had said those words to him, many times. But it was the first time Avery had sounded so much like Aziraphale. Crowley tried not to let his emotions rise. 

“Are you alright, dear boy?” Avery reached out and put a steadying hand on Crowley’s arm.

Crowley jerked his arm back. His skin felt hot where Avery’s hand had touched him. Crowley needed to get out of there. “I um ... I’ll see you later.” Crowley turned and fled. He made it to Bentley before he lost it. He crumpled in his car. The hole in his chest was ever present. 

He couldn’t escape the Aziraphale sized hole that was left in his world. The emptiness in his bed. The dark bookshop on the other side of town. The conversation less dinners. The empty nights when he cried himself to sleep.

Avery was filling part of that hole, but it was too early to tell yet. Crowley was scared to explore any sort of relationship with Avery. He wasn’t Aziraphale. It wasn’t the same, but Crowley liked the conversation, and the company. Sometimes Avery would talk to him about the books he read, and it was more fun than he expected. He liked discussing the way a character grew or made a terrible mistake. 

It was nice to get lost in another world. It helped him forget about the world around him. Maybe that’s why Aziraphale had spent so many hours engrossed in his books. It made the real world fall away and this new world grew as the words on the page flew. You could pretend nothing was wrong. All that mattered was what this character did next. He could pretend Aziraphale wasn’t gone. That he wasn’t left all by himself to face the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying this. I hope you aren't minding that I update this an irregular intervals. If you want me to post sooner you can scream at me. I really don't mind. :) But we are getting closer to that happy ending.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is spending more time with Avery. Its looks like it might lead to something more, but can Crowley overcome his longing for Aziraphale?

“You’ve never read Shakespeare?” Avery exclaimed in shock.

“I’ve watched it performed on stage, which I have been told is a better way to enjoy them.” Crowley shot back. “But only the funny ones.”

“What about Hamlet? That one is the most famous.” Avery countered.

Crowley tried not to choke. He was the reason Hamlet was so famous. It was a gift for his angel. “I’ve seen Hamlet. Didn’t really get all the fuss.”

Avery walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out a copy of Hamlet and handed it to Crowley. “Read it. And then you will see.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “If you are going to assign reading, at least make it interesting.”

“Hamlet is interesting. Give it a try. If you don’t like it, I’ll go back to recommending more of the action-packed stories that you like.”

Crowley scrunched his face. “How do you know what I like? Maybe I like historical fiction. Or maybe the classics.”

“Hamlet is a classic. But I was just making a guess off your persona, but you are right. I won’t try to limit what you read.” Avery relented. “You are very complicated.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Crowley didn’t know why he was suddenly worried.

“No.” Avery quickly said. “It's not bad. It just makes me intrigued, and I want to get to know you better, that's all.”

“Oh.” Crowley didn’t know what to say. He liked Avery, but the idea of spending more time with him was frightening. Crowley knew he was already pushing the limits, but he couldn’t stop what he said next. “I’d like to get to know you better too.”

Avery turned crimson. Crowley felt something in him stir. He reminded Crowley of Aziraphale so much in that moment. If Crowley wasn’t thinking he would have leaned over and kissed him. But Crowley was thinking. And he knew this man in front of him was not Aziraphale. There was still a pang in his heart. He hated that he kept having to remind himself of his loss.

“Best be on my way.” Crowley made an excuse and left. He knew Avery looked at him weird every time he fled from his company. Especially when they were having such a good time together. Crowley wanted to make it up to him. Apologize somehow. Crowley would normally never apologize to a human, but Avery was different. Avery didn’t seem like a regular human. He reminded Crowley of his angel. Crowley would do anything for his angel.

Crowley sat on his throne and tried to read Hamlet. He got to Hamlet’s speech and the words blurred in front of him. Crowley didn’t realize he was crying until he swiped the tears from his face. All he could hear was “Buck up, Hamlet.” In his head. See his angel dressed in those ridiculous clothes and that smile. The smile that lit up the room. 

Crowley set the tear stained book on the desk and let himself sob. Let his heart ache and grieve for his friend. The one person in the whole world who had made his life bearable. How was he still living, without him? Without his smile. Without his angelic moans while he ate food. Without the eyes that looked like the whole glistening sea had been trapped inside them.

***

Crowley doesn’t know how many times he tried to read Hamlet. He would get so far, and then he would be sobbing again. He didn’t mean to. It just kind of happened. Everything about Hamlet reminded him of Aziraphale.

Crowley was certain he would have ruined the book with all his tears if he hadn’t been able to miracle it back to perfection. He preferred no one else know about him crying.

He marched into the library and set the book down, maybe a little too forcefully, onto the counter. “I can’t do it. I can’t read this book.” He told the honest truth.

Avery wandered over; confusion written all over his face. “What’s the matter with it? Was it the language? The wording?”

Crowley scrunched up his face. He couldn’t very well tell Avery the truth. “It’s Shakespeare. It's not easy to read. I don’t get anything out of it.” He lied, hoping that would stop Avery from questioning him further.

“Well, what if I help you?” Crowley felt his eyebrows shoot up. “I could read it with you, and help you get the meaning behind the words.” He gestured to some comfy looking chairs. “Come sit.” It wasn’t a question. Crowley followed Avery and sat next to him.

The next several hours were spent with the two of them pouring over the book. Discussing the meaning of different phrases. Avery would read him a section, then explain what he thought it meant. Then he would have Crowley read the next section and have Crowley try to explain what he thought it meant.

Crowley didn’t cry. He didn’t even feel a prick in his chest as they sat and read. Instead he felt light. It wasn’t quite happiness, but it wasn’t the overwhelming sadness he was used to feeling.

The discussion was stimulating. Even though they disagreed on the meaning of some parts, Crowley was surprised on how much he actually agreed with. He knew that the script he was reading was not the same one he had seen with Aziraphale back in 1605, it was apparent that Shakespeare had stolen some of his words. Crowley didn’t mind. He would have liked some credit, but there was nothing he could do now that Shakespeare had been dead for several hundred years. If Crowley had known, he would have taken it up with him before he died. Probably would have asked for some sort of fee. 

“Hamlet is a decent chap, who is just a little confused. He likes to think things through. He doesn’t rush decisions.” Avery pointed.

“Yeah. But that doesn’t make him a hero. Because he didn’t rush a decision means he missed his chance. He could have solved the mystery a lot faster.” Crowley countered.

Avery laughed. “I like the way you think.” He glanced at the clock and his face fell. “Oh. It's getting late. I … uh...” 

Crowley could take a hint. He stood up. “I should be heading home.” He turned towards the door, but Avery called out to him.

“Um. If you don’t have any plans …” Crowley looked at him. He was going red and was fiddling with his fingers. “I can close up. Maybe we could get a bite to eat or something?”

Every fiber in his body told him this was a terrible idea. But Crowley couldn’t help the hope that blossomed in him. “Are you sure? You don’t have somewhere to be?” 

Avery smiled. “I’m sure. If you are sure. I know a great place not too far. We could walk there.”

_ Don’t do it _ . He told himself. “Sure. Sounds nice.” He heard himself say.

“Great! If you’ll just wait out front. I’ll just be a couple minutes.” Avery scurried away. His face bloomed in a great big smile.

Crowley walked to the front of the library and sat on a bench outside the door. A couple minutes later Avery came around the corner.

“Thanks for waiting. Shall we?” He gestured down the street.

Crowley felt his lips tilt upwards in a small smile. He nodded and walked next to Avery. They walked to a small café down the street and sat at a table outside in the pleasant evening air. 

Avery chattered lightly about this and that. Crowley listened intently and offered his opinion here and there. But he mostly just listened and watched. He watched Avery eat his food. He even had the same angelic moans as he savored each bite of food.

“Have you ever tried cheesecake?” Avery asked him, as he looked down at the beautifully displayed piece of cheesecake on the plate in front of him.

“Can’t say I have.” Crowley answered honestly. He didn’t remember what treats he had tried with his angel. He wasn’t a big food person. He didn’t need it, and he didn’t find as much pleasure in it as Aziraphale had.

“You should have a bite then.” Avery pushed the plate a little closer to Crowley.

“Oh. No. It’s your dessert. You don’t have to. I’ll try it some other time.” Crowley quickly made excuses. 

“Come on. Have a bite.” Avery took his fork and scooped up some cheesecake and held it out to Crowley. 

Crowley looked at the fork in front of his face. And the face of the person holding the fork. Crowley let a maliciously evil smirk cross his face as he devilishly closed his mouth around the bite of cheesecake. He closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure as he let the fork slowly slide from his mouth. He licked his lips for good measure before opening his eyes.

“You are right. That is  _ heavenly _ .” Crowley said in a sexy deep tone of voice. He couldn’t help but smile as Avery turned a delightful shade of pink. Crowley knew just how to press the buttons of temptation. He had been doing it for centuries now. But Crowley knew that look looked best on a certain angel. Who was not sitting across from him. Crowley cleared his throat. “Um. It's getting dark out. I should probably be getting home.”

“Are you sure?” Avery’s face fell. Crowley unfolded himself from the chair and stretched his long limbs. “Are you doing anything tomorrow?” Avery blurted out.

“Tomorrow?” He looked quizzically at him.

“It’s my day off. I have a pass to the museum. If you didn’t have anything to do.” Avery’s face was turning red again as he grasped at works. ‘We could… go ... together.”

Crowley knew it was a bad idea to say yes. But he hadn’t been to the museum, and spending time with Avery was nice. He  _ wanted  _ to spend more time with him. Avery was a breath of fresh air. “Sure. I don’t have any better plans.”

“Um. Okay.” Avery was shocked that he said yes. “I’ll meet you at the museum at 10. Does that work?”

“I’ll be there.” Crowley said, before turning and walking away. He turned the corner and hopped in the Bentley. Crowley wasn’t sure what he just signed up for, but he knew it would at least be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't read Hamlet in a while, I was just going off what I know. So sorry if it isn't very accurate. Also it would mean the world to me if you left a comment of how you are enjoying the story. Just a couple more chapters and we will be at the happy ending I promised.


	5. Hamlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley takes Avery on a real date.

Crowley went to the museum with Avery. He had a lot of fun talking about all the stuff he knew about inside. He had known some of the artists and sculptures, though he kept that bit of information to himself. Avery would listen to his explanation, and then talk about what he knew. Sometimes they disagreed on stuff, but usually they just listened to each other. They might not have seen eye to eye on everything, but they respected the others' opinions.

Crowley realized how much he liked the conversations he and Avery had. Avery would go off about something he had read in a book, and Crowley would counter about something he read on the internet or knew from being alive at the time.

Crowley told himself that he should stick to just seeing Avery at the library. That this was a one-time thing. But then Avery turned those crystal blue eyes on him and asked him about going somewhere else. Crowley felt his resolve turn to mush and he always accepted.

They went to all different places together. They would talk and enjoy the view. Avery would astound Crowley with all he knew from books and would often quote one while they sat on a bench. Crowley tried to impress Avery with his knowledge of useless facts, but knew he fell short in comparison.

Crowley didn’t know why, but he had the urge to impress Avery. He wanted to show him up and show how smart and intelligent he was. Crowley had been around for centuries, but there was only so much he knew about the time periods he had lived through. He had been on assignments and had missed some important details. He found he sorely needed to gain more information.

Crowley had only returned to the Bookshop once. He didn’t know if he would break upon entering it again. But here he stood in front of its doors again. He stared at the doors that looked like it had been years since anyone had touched them or cared for them. Which it quite possibly could have been. Crowley had not been keeping track of time since Aziraphale’s death.

He took a breath and gently pushed on the doors and entered the shop. It looked in even worse shape since the last time Crowley had been there. The books and shelves looked even more disheveled then normal, and a fine layer of dust was everywhere. It was dark and felt abandoned.

Crowley didn’t like that feeling. He snapped his fingers and the dust disappeared and the windows allowed more light to flicker in. He couldn’t do anything about the shape of the books. He had tried to rearrange a shelf once, and the angel scurried up and shooed him away telling him how he messed up his collection. He smiled at the memory.

Crowley reached out and gently fingered a spine of a book. He wanted to ask Aziraphale’s permission to read his books. But he wasn’t there to ask. Crowley took a deep breath and started to read. He never knew why Aziraphale kept the books he did, but he started to get an idea as he started to read through the contents of the Bookshop.

He lost track of time as he pulled book after book out and started to read its contents. He immersed himself in the story of each book. Found himself captivated by their adventures, and their sorrow. He read and read. He was lucky he was a demon and didn’t need to sleep or eat. He could just sit and let his eyes roam the words of each page.

Crowley probably would have sat there and read for the rest of the year if he hadn’t heard the bell above the door ding. His whole body went stiff. The last time he heard that it did not end well for him. 

“Hello?” A voice called out. It wasn’t an angel or a demon, but it was familiar. “Is someone in here?”

Crowley stood up and walked towards the front of the shop. He saw the stranger that had comforted him the first time he returned to the bookshop. Now that he wasn’t shrouded in grief, he saw the person. They had dark brown hair that was messy at best, and they sported blue jeans and a blue t-shirt. In their hands they held a bat. “What are you doing here?”

They spun and faced Crowley. “I could ask you the same thing.” They held the weapon out ready to use it.

“Why don’t you put the bat down?” Crowley pushed the end of the bat towards the floor.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” The stranger set the bat down. “I didn’t want to come unprepared if there were robbers in here.”

Crowley just kind of nodded. “Is that why you came in here?”

The stranger looked down sheepishly. “I saw movement and a light on. I jumped to the worst-case scenario. There hasn’t been anyone in here in quite a while.” Crowley only nodded, a painful jab in his chest. Though it was significantly less painful then the last time he was here. “So, what were you doing here?”

“Oh um.” Crowley fumbled with his words. He wondered whether this person would judge him for his new hobby. “Reading.” 

“Wow! I never took you for the reading type. You seemed to be so above reading.” He laughed.

“I am above reading.” Crowley shot back. He didn’t like the way this person talked like he knew him. “What makes you think you can talk to me like that?”

“Oh. Sorry. I live across the street. So, I saw you and the owner hang out a lot. I used to think you were together, but I never took you for the reading type.”

“I  _ wasn’t _ the reading type. It’s a new thing I’ve taken up, since …” Crowley swallowed hard against the lump growing in his throat. “Since my friend passed.”

“Oh. Yeah. Really is a shame. He was such a nice fella. I’m Nick by the way.” He held out his hand.

“Crowley. Anthony Crowley.” He gave the hand one shake, before returning to scouring the perimeter.

“Mr. Fell used to talk about you, ya know.” Nick said. “He loved to talk about you, even more than he loved talking about books, and he loved his books.”

Crowley’s eyebrows raised. “He did?”

“Oh yeah. Whenever I stopped by to chat with him, he would always find a way to talk about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Nick glanced around. “Do you know what happened to him? Will he be returning?”

Crowley felt a lump in his throat. He swallowed it down. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t expect him back anytime soon.” 

“Okay. I’ll continue to keep an eye on it then. I know he would be mad if anything happened to any of his books.”

“Yeah.” Crowley was going to make some witty response when his phone started to ring. He pulled it out, and saw it was Avery calling him. He picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank heavens you picked up.” Avery sounded so relieved.

“Is something the matter?” Crowley was suddenly concerned that something had happened to Avery.

“Nothing is the matter with me.” Avery said. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. I haven’t heard from you for a couple days.”

“A couple days?” Crowley was confused. “Didn’t we just go to the Palomar yesterday?”

“Yesterday? That was three days ago.” Crowley glanced at his watch. He must have been so busy reading he hadn’t noticed that three days had gone by. No wonder Avery sounded worried. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I guess I just lost track of time. I was busy.” Crowley tried to make it sound like it was no big deal. He was used to sleeping through days, not reading through days. “Did you need something?”

“No. I guess not. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was… Well I was worried. I was worried something happened to you.” Crowley could hear the emotion behind the words. Avery was growing feelings for him. Crowley knew it. Crowley couldn’t deny his attraction, but he didn’t know how to feel about it.

“I am fine, really. I just got caught up doing something.” Crowley felt bad for making Avery think something had happened to him. “How about I make it up to you. Are you free Friday evening?”

There was shuffling of papers on the other end. “Um. Yes. I am.” Avery checked his calendar. He was old school and had his schedule written down in a planner. It was kind of adorable how old schooled he was.

“I’ll be by about six to pick you up.”

“Okay. See you then.” Crowley hung up the phone. He tried to convince himself he hadn’t heard the excitement in Avery’s voice.

***

Crowley drove up to the library at 6 o’clock sharp. He was dressed up in a suit with tickets tucked into his shirt pocket. He was nervous. Crowley didn’t know why he was so nervous, other than the fact that this was his first real date with Avery. He had been reading up on Hamlet and other classics to be prepared to impress Avery with his knowledge.

Crowley adjusted his bowtie before he headed into the library. It was empty of customers, but Avery wasn’t at the desk he usually occupied.

“Avery?” Crowley called out softly, unsure how loud he should be. He had been shushed more than once by Avery for talking too loudly.

“Hello, Anthony.” Crowley turned and stopped in his tracks. Avery was standing in front of him. He was wearing a light button up shirt that wasn’t buttoned at the top. A blue blazer that brought out his bright blue eyes, and tan slacks.

“Wow. You look really nice.” Crowley fumbled for a compliment. His mouth had gone dry. It had been a while since he had seen Aziraphale wear anything but that tan suit and bowtie. This was a sudden change. Avery looked amazing. 

“Thank you. I figured I would try something new out.” Avery smiled a dazzling white smile. “Shall we be on our way then?”

Crowley nodded and being a gentleman, opened Avery’s door for him. He drove them to the theatre, where they sat and enjoyed watching Hamlet performed on stage. Crowley kept his sunglasses firmly in place. He did not want Avery to see his reactions as he watched the play. The last time he saw the play performed was in the globe in 1603, with Aziraphale. 

Crowley had tried to prepare himself mentally to watch it again, but he knew it was impossible to not think about Aziraphale while he watched the play. He tried to get lost in the story. The enjoyment of watching people strut on the stage and tell the story.

During the fighting scene Avery reached out and grabbed Crowley’s hand. It surprised Crowley. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. But Avery squeezed it tight, which gave him little butterflies in his stomach. Avery held his hand much longer than Crowley thought he would. He only let go when they started clapping at the end of the play.

As they walked out of the theatre Avery grabbed Crowley’s arm and exclaimed, “That was simply amazing! I have never seen Hamlet performed.” He looked up at Crowley with the biggest grin. Crowley turned his face and smiled back at him. Their faces were close. So close in fact, that if Crowley wanted to lean down, he could easily press a kiss to Avery’s soft plump lips. “Thank you for taking me to see it.”

Crowley felt his face grow hot. He looked ahead at where he was walking. “It wasn’t a big deal.” Crowley tried to shrug it off. He would also like to shrug Avery off his arm. It felt weird to have him so close. Crowley felt a pit in his stomach. He knew he was letting himself enjoy too much company with Avery, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for this kind of contact. Crowley opened Avery’s door and unlatched himself from Avery’s grip.

Avery chattered on about the play as Crowley drove him back to the Library. “Oh, you can turn here.” Avery said, pointing in a different direction. He smiled at Crowley. “I live over there.”

Crowley swallowed and turned the car, following Avery’s directions. He pulled to a stop in front of a simple looking apartment building. It had red bricks and gold trimming. Some of the signs were starting to look faded, but it looked in fairly good condition. Some new paint and a little fixing up, and it would look good as new. 

Crowley was unsure what to do next. Avery smiled at him. His blue eyes bright and brimming with mischief. “It’s impolite not to walk me to the door.” Avery hopped out of the car before Crowley could say anything.

Crowley turned off the Bentley and walked over to where Avery was holding the door inside open of the lobby of the building. The inside of the building had much the same feeling as the outside of the building.

“This way!” Avery called out to him and beckoned towards a hallway. Crowley followed, looking at the wallpaper of blue flowers, and the paintings that adorned the wall. “Hurry up.” Avery was nearly halfway down the hallway. His legs were traveling fast. Crowley found his feet did not want to take him anywhere fast at the moment. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He hoped that Avery was only inviting him in for cocoa and maybe stimulating conversation, but the pit in his stomach only grew with each step.

Avery was waiting by an elevator. The doors dinged open as Crowley stepped next to him. They stepped into the elevator and listened to the music as it took them up a couple floors. Then they stepped out and Avery walked over to a door. He turned and smiled at Crowley. Crowley could see that he was nervous. He was fiddling with his hands, much like Aziraphale had done so many times.

“Thank you so much for the lovely evening.” His sincerity struck Crowley. The next thing Crowley knew, Avery grabbed his arm and hoisted himself on his tippy toes. He leaned forward, bringing their lips inches apart. Crowley felt his body freeze up in shock. He couldn’t breathe. Avery was about to lean forward the rest of the way when Crowley’s feet stepped back. The sudden movement made Avery lose his balance ever so slightly. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was all wrong. The pit in Crowley’s stomach felt like a heavy rock in his gut. “I’m sorry.” He said, taking another step back. Avery looked up at him with a question in his too blue eyes.

Crowley didn’t know what to say. He turned around and fled. He didn’t remember where the elevator was, so he hurried to turn a corner before he snapped his fingers and landed inside the Bentley. The Bentley screeched away making its way through central London.

Crowley slunk to his throne. He collapsed his tired aching body into the chair. He wanted to sob and to cry out. He felt hot angry tears fall down his face.

Avery had most definitely tried to kiss him. But it just felt so wrong. Avery was not Aziraphale. No matter how much he reminded Crowley of him.

Avery was  _ not _ Aziraphale.

Crowley had really enjoyed Avery’s company. Avery had made his heart feel lighter. He helped Crowley not feel depressed all the time. He brought life and laughter back into Crowley. Crowley had thought his life was over when he lost Aziraphale.

Crowley had almost felt home when he was with Avery. There was just something about being in the library with Avery that felt almost right. It reminded him of spending all the time in the bookshop with Aziraphale.

A thought struck Crowley just then. Avery had the same eyes that Aziraphale had. His laugh was similar to Aziraphale’s. Everything about Avery was just like Aziraphale. Crowley couldn’t think of anything that didn’t remind him of Aziraphale.

Crowley swiped away the tears angrily and pulled out his phone. He was going to do some research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are almost at the end. I hope you are still alive and enjoying the story. I will wrap up all the loose ends and give you the happy ending you have been holding on for.


	6. Aziraphale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is at his breaking point. He has to know if there is any way Avery might be Aziraphale. And the Happy ending as promised.

Crowley sat in his throne and googled Avery Fell. It was strange how little information he found on him. There was no birth certificate, no parents listed. Nothing. The lack of information he found was almost baffling, but it also seemed to fuel his idea.

The first sign of Avery Fell ever beginning to exist coincided pretty closely with when he lost Aziraphale. Though his memory was blurred as to the exact date when he lost Aziraphale. 

Crowley couldn’t not help but notice how much Avery and Aziraphale had in common. If Aziraphale was human, Crowley would suspect he would be a lot like Avery. It was almost disconcerting how similar they were. Which is why he couldn’t stop himself from hoping that maybe he was Aziraphale. That Aziraphale was not lost. Crowley felt the warmth in his chest at the thought of seeing his angel again. 

Crowley wanted to hold Aziraphale again. He couldn’t put words to how much he just wanted his Angel back. He would give anything to have Aziraphale back. Crowley would march into heaven or hell for Aziraphale.

Crowley pulled out his phone and called Avery.

“Hello?” His voice was a little shaky and nervous. Crowley suddenly remembered what had transpired between them.

“Hi, Avery, it's me.” Crowley found his own voice shaky. “I wanted to apologize for how I reacted.”

“It's okay. You don’t need to apologize. I obviously rushed into things. I am not very um... I haven’t had that much experience with dating.” Avery stumbled over his words. “I hope I haven’t scared you off.”

“Don’t worry, angel.” Crowley said fondly. “Would you like to meet at St. James’ park?”

“Sure. That would be nice.” Avery said. They set a time, and then hung up.

Crowley paced around his apartment. He just wanted to run over to Avery and tell him everything, but he had to be patient. He amused himself by watching Golden Girls.

When the time finally came Crowley hopped in his Bentley. He arrived early at the park, so he could walk around and breathe in the scents and scenes of the park. The ducks floating in the pond. The people milling about. The scents of lollies and flowers on the breeze. It was a regular day in the park.

Crowley looked up and saw Avery across the grass. He looked the same as he had before, but this time Crowley let himself notice how similar he was to Aziraphale. His hair was the same fluffy white, same tan suit. Even when he smiled it lit up his eyes in the same way.

“It’s good to see you.” Avery said, fiddling with his hands in front of him. “I really am sorry about last night.”

Crowley motioned to a bench. “I should be the one apologizing. You deserve an explanation.”

Avery sat down and looked at Crowley. “I don’t need one, but I can see something is weighing on you.”

Crowley rubbed his neck with his hand. “Remember when we first met, and I told you reminded me of a friend.” Avery nodded, so Crowley continued. “Well, he was more than a friend. He was my best friend. He was my everything.”

“Was?” Avery asked gently.

Crowley felt tears prick his eyes. “He was taken from me. It wasn’t until I met you that I felt whole without him.” Crowley looked up into Avery’s blue eyes. “You helped to heal the whole in my heart left by him. Last night when you tried to kiss me, all I could think about was him. I realized I wasn’t ready to move on. I’m still in love with him.”

“And I’m not him.” Avery finished.

Crowley felt the hope rise in his chest. “That’s what I thought. But I realized you and him are so similar. It’s almost freaky how much you are alike. So maybe you are him. It’s possible.”

Avery’s eyes went wide. “Anthony, are you alright? I can’t be someone else I’m me.” Avery started to shake his head.

“You have to listen to me. You have the same eye color and hair color.”

“Coincidental.” Avery stated.

“Same clothing taste, and you both love books.”

“Dear, that does not mean I am someone who is dead.” Avery stood up, shaking his head.

Crowley was grasping for straws. He was losing Avery. He knew he was. “Wait. You can’t be absolutely certain you aren’t him. Will you at least let me take you somewhere?”

Pity filled Avery’s blue eyes as he looked at Crowley. “Okay. I’ll go with you. But if nothing comes of it, will you promise to drop this crazy idea.”

Crowley stood up and grabbed Avery’s hand and started pulling him towards the Bentley. “Yes. I promise.” Crowley couldn’t contain his nerves about what if he was wrong. He could only focus on the fact that he was so close to getting Aziraphale back.

Crowley drove at record breaking speeds over to the Bookshop. Avery paled in the passenger seat, as Crowley nearly avoided hitting several pedestrians. The Bentley squealed to a stop in its normal parking spot.

Avery opened his eyes and took in the view of the corner. “Where are we?”

“In Soho. At your bookshop.” Crowley climbed out of the car and walked over to the door. Avery followed slowly, taking in all the view.

“My library is on the other side of town.” Avery corrected Crowley.

Crowley opened the door, the bell above singing a happy hello. “Aziraphale’s bookshop. Your bookshop.”

Avery stepped in slowly and took it all in. He walked slowly over a bookshelf and picked up a book. His breath caught as he read the title, and he gently put it back. He fingered several more as he walked further into the bookshop. “This place is amazing.” He breathed. “This is a fascinating collection.”

“Aziraphale collected these throughout the centuries. He liked first editions and them to be signed by the authors.” Crowley said fondly. “Does any of this seem familiar?”

“I have never been here before in my life. I would love to read all the books on the shelves though. There are so many good books.” Avery turned a concerned look to Crowley. “But none of this is familiar. I am not your Aziraphale.”

Crowley felt something in him crack. Avery was Aziraphale. He just needed more convincing. Crowley walked to the backroom. “What about here? We spent so many evenings getting ourselves plastered.” Crowley grabbed a bottle. “This was your favorite wine.” 

Avery walked over and gently put a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “Anthony. None of this is familiar. It's obviously a very special place for you. I think I should go.” Crowley felt wetness on his face. He reached up and realized he was crying. “I’m not Anthony. I’m Crowley. Please.” His voice broke. “Call me Crowley, Aziraphale.” Avery turned and started to walk away. Crowley couldn’t bear it. He let his emotions loose. He ran over to Avery. “Please. Aziraphale. Come back to me. I need you.” He looked into the blue eyes. He wished there was something behind them. Some recognition. Anything.

“Anthony.” Avery said softly.

Crowley felt himself crack. He didn’t know what caused him to do what he did next. He just went with his instinct. He reached out and cupped Avery’s face and kissed him. He poured all the emotion he had been bottling up for months into that kiss. He poured all his hopes and dreams into that kiss.  _ Aziraphale, come back to me. _ Repeated itself over and over in his mind as he kissed Avery.

He pulled back softly. Both he and Avery were breathing heavy. He looked into the blue eyes. They hadn’t changed. Crowley stepped back and Avery shook his head slowly. 

Crowley heard the shattering of his heart. It was almost as bad as losing Aziraphale the first time. Knowing he would not be coming back. Knowing he would never hold Aziraphale again.

‘I’m sorry.” Crowley whispered. He turned and took a few steps, before his legs gave out. He crumpled to the ground and sobbed. He wailed and let his grief consume him. He had lost his love for the second time. The poor demon was so overwhelmed that he cried out his grief for several minutes.

There was a sudden burst of light from behind Crowley. His vision was blurry, but it stopped his sobbing. The light dispersed, and Crowley just sat there in the silence. He didn’t know what the light was, and he was afraid to turn around.

“Crowley?” A soft voice from behind him broke the silence. Crowley slowly stood and turned towards where Avery had been moments before. In front of him stood Avery, but he seemed different. A different air was around him.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked with concern.

Crowley ran over and hugged Aziraphale close. A new flood of tears cascading down his cheeks. “Aziraphale. Your back.”

“Yes, my love.” Aziraphale said softly as he embraced Crowley. 

“I thought I had lost you.” Crowley said as he revered in holding Aziraphale close. “I thought I would never see you again.”

“Shh, darling.” Aziraphale reached up and threaded his hands through Crowley’s hair. “I’m here now.”

Crowley pulled Aziraphale closer. He never wanted to let go of Aziraphale again. But he had questions and would like some answers. So, he pulled back and looked at Aziraphale’s face. “Can we sit and talk for a bit?”

“Of course, darling. Would you like some hot cocoa?”

“No. I just want your company.” Aziraphale smiled and nodded. They settled into the couch, wrapping a blanket around them. Crowley leaned heavily into Aziraphale. He couldn’t help but ask the question that was weighing the most on him. “I thought Gabriel killed you? I watched him push you into the hellfire.”

“Well. He did.” Aziraphale said softly. “But The Almighty wasn’t pleased, so She intervened, and made it a little bit of a game.”

“How so?” Crowley said as he lovingly gazed at Aziraphale. 

“She wanted to mess with Gabriel a bit, show him he isn’t the boss. She made me human and erased my memories to show that we would always be able to find each other and be together.” Aziraphale smiled and pecked him on the cheek. “So you see it’s ineffable, darling. We are always meant to be together. You found me, and you will always find me.” Aziraphale then kissed Crowley properly.

“I don’t ever want to lose you again.” Crowley couldn’t help but shake at the thought.

Aziraphale pulled him closer. “You won’t ever have to worry about that again.”

“What was it like to be a human?” Crowley spoke softly.

“It was quite a change. I had to worry about things I never had to worry about before. I had to sell books and make money to pay for rent and buy food. There was always this nagging feeling that I was forgetting something. Like there was something I couldn’t quite remember, but I knew it was important. Everyday with you was a treasure though. The moment you stepped through my doors I knew you were the one for me.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. Every fiber of my being told me I loved you. And every time you came back my heart would flip. It was a new feeling to go after you and not have any reasons holding me back. I am sorry for rushing you though.”

“S’all good, angel.”

“Though I must say, it was kind of fun to see you enjoy books. I never thought in all of our 6000’s years that you would ever pick up a book.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I read your books from your bookshop.” Crowley felt sheepish now.

“Oh fiddlesticks. You are welcome to read my collection. I will gladly share my love of reading with you.” Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder and gazed at the bookshop. They sat in silence for a minute. “Do you think we could find somewhere else to live? I love the Bookshop, but it has a lot of memories. I know it’s painful since what happened.”

“Are you sure? This is your home.” Crowley asked, concerned.

“It has been my home for a long time. It might be time for a change. You are my home.”

Crowley felt his face and insides warm up. His eyelids suddenly felt heavy. “Maybe a nice cottage, some place away from town.”

“I think that’s a splendid idea. We shall get our own little place.” Aziraphale gently kissed Crowley’s head. “I love you, my darling.”

“I love you too, angel.” Crowley meant it with all his heart. He was finally complete. There were no holes or shattered pieces. He was in Aziraphale’s arms, and there was no place else he would rather be in the whole universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it! I hope you enjoyed my first major attempt at angst. Some tears were shed. I am sad to see this end, but I am glad to finally be at the happy ending I promised from the start. Thank you for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you are still alive. I promise this will have a good ending. Feel free to scream at me. I'm on Tumblr and Twitter as Crazyrose912.


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